Dinotopia: Found
by Makori
Summary: People get stranded on Dinotopia all the time, right? Well, what if some of them had to survive the Rainy Basin? This is a 'self into theme' story. Romance in later chapters.
1. Prolouge

(A/N: I haven't been writing fanfics for long, but this is like my third or fourth one. Its a 'pop-your-life-into-the-adventure' fanfics. I just put in a few of my friends from Boy Scouts. Only two months 'till I make Star!)

**Dinotopia: Found**

Prologue

Matt Griffin was scared stiff. There, he'd admitted it; he was scared. As the waves rocked their boat, Matt grabbed for a handhold, and managed to grab a railing, preventing him from being swept over the side. Glenn Weaver, his Scoutmaster, shooting mentor, and all around friend, was at the steering wheel, trying to get the boat under control. Pssh, yeah, fat chance. Strangely, Matt was calm. He was calm, even as another wave pounded down onto them, and his hand began to loosen as the rail got even wetter, both from the seawater and from his sweat. Suddenly, with a crashed, Alec Garcia, a rather tall and…wide boy crashed into Matt, knocking him off the rail into Scott Fraize. All of a sudden, there was confusion, as vertigo set in, and Matt's breathing began to come short as he was crushed between the two boys. How did all this happen? It was supposed to just be a trip, and island hopping hunting trip. What was happening? He could dimly hear Glenn shouting something about hanging on and getting through this. The world was beginning to get even darker than before as his oxygen was cut off by another boy being added to the pile. Was it Sean Irvine, Blake Weaver, his brother Karl, or maybe Eric Carter? Who knew right now, and more importantly, who cared?


	2. Chapter 1

(A/N:These boy are supposed to be around thirteen, fourteen years old. Although, Sean and Alec are both Life Scouts, so that makes them fifteen, and Ralphy's practically just joined, but he a Second Class, so he's twelve. In real life, I'm almost sixteen, but in here, Matt's turning fifteen. Also, Matt is not my name, I am simply putting my personality in him. Also, I'll be putting character descriptions in the next chapter, sorry about that.)

**Dinotopia: Found**

Chapter 1

"Hang on! I think he's waking up!"

The world of black was swirling in front of Matt's eyes. What was going on? What had happened? Why was he thinking? Who did these voices belong to? Time to try something simple.

"Urgh…"

F, F, F. He'd utterly failed to do something so SIMPLE as talk. Attempting something else, Matt cracked open one eyelid, to find himself staring into another set of eyes. He quickly shut his eye as the headache came rolling in waves. It was like being on the…boat! Matt's eyes snapped open and he jerked up, swinging his head left and right. He couldn't see anything at all, what the hell was going on!

"Matt! Slow down! Sean! Gimme his glasses!"

Slowly, Matt slowed his head as his vision came back. It was still dark, but at least he could see. Then, just as suddenly, he wished he couldn't see what was right in front of him. They were all sitting on a beach, with flashlights illuminating the sand. But the thing he didn't want to see was the body that was laying in front of him with a piece of iron shoved through its thin chest. It was Ryan Sanders. Ryan had been everyone's friend, someone who'd always sit back and listen instead of being the one to talk. He was short, and his legs were longer than the rest of his body. He'd had to wear thick glasses, since he was almost blind in both of his eyes. He wasn't very good at sports, and would always sit on the sidelines, cheering for the other boys as they played smear the queer, dodge ball, soccer, baseball, basketball, and other things. Ryan had been new to shooting. This had been his first hunting trip. And his last. Matt opened his eyes again, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. Ryan's glasses were cracked, his mouth slightly open because of his broken jaw. One of his ears was missing, and his left arm was bent at a peculiar angle. At least he didn't feel any pain now.

Sean Irvine, a Life Scout who'd been like a brother to Matt, walked up and put one arm around Matt's shoulders, saying "He didn't feel anything. I found him with that piece of the railing in him, and he broke all his bones in the crash."

Matt slowly stood up and looked around. Everyone else had survived. Alec, Scott, Carl, Blake, Eric, Ralphy, Glenn, Robert…and himself. So why hadn't Ryan? Glenn sighed and looked up, at the sky. Storm clouds covered the dark expanse, and they didn't seem to be going away. Looking back down, he saw his son, Carl, holding some gasoline and a box of matches. Carl had always been somewhat of a pyromaniac. He'd once taken the top off a tank of propane, thrown in his mom's cigarette lighter, and blown it up. He'd been grounded for two months for that. At last, it appeared that Carl was making the right choice. Everyone gave their last regards, then, slowly, respectful as possible, Carl poured the gasoline onto Ryan's body, than struck a match, dropping it onto the boy's chest. No one spoke as they watched the remains of their friend burn. There was nothing to say.

This trip had originally been between most of the boys in Boy Scout Troop 608. Their Scoutmaster, Glenn Weaver, was willing to pay for them all to go island hopping, as well as deer and maybe tiger hunting in India. Of course, Matt had jumped at the opportunity. He'd always loved guns, and had only gone on a few hunting trips, but had never been island hopping. The last he remembered of his home was when the boat to India cast off, and he'd been waving to his parents, thinking about how much fun he'd have on this trip. He was so wrong. Glenn had bought a boat when they got there, and since they had no other place to put them, he'd stored the guns and ammo he'd brought on the boat. Matt may have loved guns, but he never owned any. Glenn owned about thirty, including a few automatics that had been modified to semi-automatics so that they would be legal. It had all been great fun…up until the storm. In uncharted waters, they'd run into storm clouds. Glenn had just laughed and told the boys to hang on tight, that they could ride it out. What they got instead was a hell of a nightmare. Especially when they'd hit the reefs. Matt was filled in on what happened during the storm as they all removed the guns and ammunition from the hull of the boat. Most of them had made it, and almost all of the ammo was still dry, so at least they could protect themselves.

_From what?_ Matt thought, as he picked up a Thompson from the pile. _All there is out here is birds._

As Matt started loading the magazines, Glenn told the boys who had automatics to give him their guns so he could modify them to automatics again. Shotguns, rifles, and handguns were passed out, so that each boy had at least three guns. Some had more, which would be the automatics, which included an Uzi, the Thompson Matt had picked out, an M16, an AK-47, and a Sig Sauer. There was grim silence as each boy pulled out a backpack from the wreck and started loading ammo into it. All the automatics had about five magazines each and they all had to be filled by hand. By the time dawn came around, seven dry crates were emptied onto the beach. Three of them had been found in knee high level water, so they left those. All the boys started digging through their pockets. Cell phones, keys, wallets, and photos all hit the beach. Matt pulled the last piece of his cell phone out of his pocket and discarded it, looking to the pile. These things had become unnecessary, so they all had to go. Matt sighed as he pulled the rifle and shotgun over his shoulder and strapped his handgun belt onto his waist. He'd been given a Colt semi-auto, which he preferred. The only old gun he really liked was the Thompson; he wasn't really a fan of revolvers. This activity continued until noon. Glenn stood up and looked around. All the boys had rifles, shotgun, handguns, and a few had automatics.

Picking up the Uzi, Glenn screwed a stock and a silencer onto the gun, before calling out "Alright, boys! Let's go! We gotta find out if there's anyone we can ask for help from."

All the boys stood, staggering under the weight of their guns and ammo, took one last look around, at the boat, at where Ryan's body had been, at photos on the beach, and then finally followed Glenn into the jungle. Little did they know that they were walking into hell.

Blake Weaver gripped the handle of his M16 tightly as they pushed their way through the jungle. They'd passed some ruins, a few large skeletons that they'd all admired in awe, but most importantly, they'd heard several strange sounds. Chirps that sounded like birds, moans and roars that couldn't possibly belong to tigers, and finally, something had been in the bushes. At first, they'd almost passed it, but when the bushes started rustling violently, everyone immediately started aiming, but whatever it was went away. They hadn't seen or found whatever had almostattacked them, but whatever it had been, it hadn't been friendly. Nor had it been very big, and that's what confused them all the most. As they all progressed, the sun started to set, and they all started looking for a camp. Not a single word had been said all day. No one knew what to say. Finally, they settled down near what looked like a temple overlooking a river. As Matt dumped his pack and looked around, he could feel a presence. He didn't know exactly HOW he knew it, but it was just there. Raising the Thompson, he listened for a few minutes before he heard something from the river. Turning, he cocked his head curiously. The river was serene, not a rock in its path, nothing to make a splash.

"Hey Matt! C'mon, we're gonna try and make-"

Carl had been about to tell Matt to look for something to eat, but he shut up as a snarl, a burst of gunfire, and the snapping of breaking branches in the bushes. Matt waited for a few seconds, then pulled the trigger again, let off a few more rounds, then waited. The jungle had gone quiet. Deathly quiet. Mat took a few more steps forward, raising the Thompson. Suddenly, something red flashed in front of him, and he pulled the trigger again. He was surprised when his shots were joined with others. He took a brief look over his shoulder to find that Carl had fired his AK and Blake had managed a round or two from his M16. Matt may have been grateful for the help, he still swore and backed up when he saw what came out of the bushes. About five feet tall, the creature stood on two legs, had a stiff tail, and had three claws on each arm. And there were two of these creatures. Matt, being a dinosaur buff, which had gotten him teased constantly at school, recognized these creatures as Velociraptors, Raptors for short. Both were bleeding from gunshot wounds, but one of them was trying to get away. The one that continued to rush Matt, despite having a bullet in its right leg, had another wound in its neck. Just before it reached Matt, there was a loud BOOM, and the next instant, the Raptor had a bullet hole at least a half inch wide in its skull. Looking back again, Matt saw Alec on his feet, a rifle in his hands. It was a magnum, which explained the loudness and the power of the shot. Matt's ears were ringing, since he'd never really shot a gun without earplugs before.

Looking back at the dead raptor, Carl muttered "I thought dinosaurs were extinct."

Looking down, Matt said "Well, this one is."

Quick Killer struggled through the bushes, heaving against the wound in her side. She'd never gone up against an adversary like that before. She'd even tried to get one that was on the edge of the group, but it had somehow heard her and her mate, Fire Claw. If it hadn't been for the human's companions and their strange…she didn't know what they were, but she was sure she could've taken the human down and dragged him away before anyone else realized what had happened. These were obviously NOT local humans. Not only from their dress and smell, but also from the way they carried those weapons with such assuredness. That was what scared her the most. As she got back to the nest, others smelled her blood, and quickly began to rush towards her. For one fleeting second, she was afraid that they would kill her, but then she relaxed, slightly. These were her family, after all. About three or four Raptors grouped around her, looking at her wounds.

"What happened?"

"What is wrong with you?"

As calmly as she could, Quick Killer related her story back to the others. Just about everyone was around her now.

"And then, Fire Claw told me to get out of there, while he gave me some time. He knew he wasn't going to make it."

One of the older ones stepped forward. His name was Two-Moons, and he was considered the smartest Raptor in the pack.

"But, what were the things they held? You said they were weapons that made loud noises and launched invisible things, but can you give a description?"

Quick Killer began to think about the details of the weapons as closely as she could. Then she remembered something. Each time a sound was made, one of the humans moved one of their fingers. She relayed this information back to Two-Moons, but he did not know what this meant.

"We will have to ask around. But, until we find out if these humans pose a threat to us or not, everyone is to stay away from them."

Quick Killer knew she couldn't. Not onlysince they had killed her mate, but mostly because she wanted to figure out what was going on. Especially with the one that one of the humans called…what was it? Oh, yes, Matt.

That night, votes on whether or not Dinosaur Steak should be on the menu were cast. Majority won, and Matt sat there, chewing something that tasted like dark chicken. That wasn't really surprising, since every foreign meat seemed to taste like chicken. As they all sat around the campfire, most rubbing their ears since they were still ringing, Matt thought about the day's earlier events. When he'd looked at the Raptor that was running away from him, he'd looked at its eyes and one thing had registered in his mind; It was afraid of him. Some thing else was bugging him as well as that. He reached up, tentatively, and rubbed his ears. They had stopped ringing. Even Ralphy, the smallest, who had been only approaching the campsite and was at least six or eight feet away from the guns when they were fired, was still rubbing HIS ears. Matt frowned at this. Rubbing his ears once more, he got up, announced he was going to sleep, picked up his Thompson, and started making somewhere comfortable for himself to sleep. Before he drifted off, however, one last detail registered in his mind, but he couldn't be sure how it got there; _Quick Killer…Quick Killer…_

Meanwhile, in the bushes, a Raptor stood, hiding, watching the humans at the fire. One of them got up and said something, while picking up one of those weapons. She recognized him as the one named Matt. As he lay down on the edge of the ring of light from the fire, she watched him. Soon, all the other humans, except one, went to sleep. The last one, she assumed, was to stand watch. A very clever move. Unless you were big, like an Allosaur or a Tyrannosaurus, sleeping in the Rainy Basin could be as deadly as walking straight into a nesting area. Raising one clawed arm, Quick Killer pulled a leaf out of her face, watching both the human named Matt, and the one standing watch. He was facing the other way, sitting at the edge of the fire with his back turned to Matt. Very quietly, she crept forward, towards Matt, and started to sniff him. She nudged him a bit, and he shifted, making her jerk back. After a few seconds, she lowered her head again and kept inspecting him. That was when the shot rang out.


	3. Chapter 2

(A/N: Sorry folks, too much info to put for the descriptions. Just know that Matt, Glenn, and Robert, all wear glasses, and that Glenn is the only adult. And no, Carl's name is not from the movie Karl. I actually know a kid named Carl, and put his name in before I remembered that there was already a Karl/Carl in Dinotopia.)

**Dinotopia: Found**

Chapter 2

Carl had taken the evening watch, mostly because he was almost too scared to sleep. He was supposed to be fourteen, yes, but being in a place that had man-eating creatures in it probably gave someone that right to be scared. Carl watched as everyone else fell asleep, all cradling their guns like they were a part of them. Well, they would have to be if they were going to live. Carl looked around. The embers of the fire were just dying down, and soon, the entire clearing would be pitch black. The trees around the temple and the river stretched so high that they filled in blank spots where there was supposed to be night sky. Running his hand through his buzz cut hair, Carl wondered what on Earth he'd done to deserve this. Nothing, that's what. Not a single damn thing in hell. None of them had, but Ryan was dead and burned. Now Carl saw that it had been the right choice. If they hadn't burned Ryan's body, then predators would have come upon it, and then they couldn't go back to the beach for more ammo. Standing up, Carl did a 180 to make sure everything was OK. Just as he was about to sit down again, he froze. His green eyes widened as he saw what was happening in front of him. A Raptor had crept up to Matt and was sniffing at him, poking him, almost like it was examining him. Panicking, Carl dropped his AK, instead falling to one knee and fumbling with his Sig Sauer automatic pistol, which was in place of his handgun. Before he managed to take a bead, he fired two shots. Both missed, he knew it, but it was enough to scare off the Raptor. It quickly straightened up, saw him, blinked, then wheeled around and was gone. Recollecting his thoughts, Carl fired all the shots left in his Sig, even after the Raptor had disappeared. Everyone was on his feet now, guns at the ready, looking for the disturbance. But it was already gone. As Carl related his story, Matt frowned, turning and looking into the dark bushes. He wasn't sure, but could've sworn he saw a pair of eyes staring back at him. He didn't raise his gun, but he didn't let the others know, either. He just stared. Slowly, he nodded, not sure what he was permitting. The eyes disappeared. Matt knew that if he never saw them again, it would be too soon.

Quick Killer had been revisiting the camp as often as she could, but it was more difficult now. The humans, starting to adapt to the wilderness they were living in, had started to stay up sooner, sleep only until dawn, and go out on patrols of two or three to explore the jungle. But the most dangerous thing of all for her was that they had increased the guard. Now, two of them sat back to back, watching the jungle. The watch changed every six hours or so. Well, the boys couldn't really tell how long an hour was, having discarded their watches and cell phones on the beach, so they made estimates from the sun. After being fed up with no sun or stars, one of the boys had pulled a shotgun, climbed up one of the trees, and blasted the canopy, exposing the sky. Bad move, as it turned out. As well as exposing the sky, they also let in the rain, and more importantly, predators. Flying creatures, ones that Mat identified as Rhamphoryncus, would sometimes swoop in. They weren't very big, and they were ignored for a while. That is, until one day when one of them flew down and took a chunk out of Sean's arm. That one had been blasted by Alec's rifle. Now, they were blasted as soon as they came below the tree line. Ralphy, the boy who had blasted the hole, had gotten many dirty looks from the others, as well as a punch from Sean's good arm. Now, just about everyone was on alert. After about a week, everyone's trigger fingers were practically permanently curled, and they never strayed too far from one of their guns. Whether it was handgun, rifle, automatic, or shotgun, they'd all developed favorites. For example, Eric had barely been able to handle anything bigger than a 12-gauge shotgun, which, if you didn't know, is a pretty moderately powerful shotgun. However, he'd swapped with Alec, who'd been using his .306 magnum rifle more often than any other gun. Now, Eric had a double barreled 8 gauge, one of the most powerful shotguns in the world, and he could handle it like nothing. They'd all gotten used to the ringing in their ears when they fired, and their guns had grown on them like extra limbs. Sean, during his injured state, had swapped handguns with Carl, and now used the Sig more often than anything else. But, it wasn't like a handgun would be able to do much against most of the predators in this jungle. Matt knew that every horror story that had dinosaurs always had predators like Raptors and T. Rex. So, why hadn't they met anything bigger?

Quick Killer and the rest of her pack had found a small convoy. It wasn't much, just a young Brachiosaur and a few Styracosaurs. But, all convoys held smoked fish, which meant food. Ever since the strange humans had come into the jungle, it had become harder and harder to hunt. It wasn't too unusual for one of the hunting parties to run into one of their patrols. Over the past few weeks, the pack had lost two more Raptors. They were now down to about ten, Quick Killer and Two-Moons included. The Raptors had resorted to stealing from the humans while they weren't looking, picking at the carcasses of shot animals. They would've done fishing, but they weren't built for it. Not only that, but the humans were now blasting the water, getting fish, and eating them. Now, it was almost like this convoy was a blessing. The convoy leader had panicked and ordered the fish to be dropped as soon as the Raptors had been seen. Seeing the way all of them fell onto the fish with such enthusiasm and need, the Protoceratops translator, a young specimen named Berhuam, became curious, and asked them why they were so hungry. After Two-Moons explained their situation, Berhuam became even more curious.

"Newcomers in the Rainy Basin? For a little over a month? How is that possible? How could they survive?" asked the convoy leader, a young man named Tristan Proudfoot.

"Apparently, they have some weapons, but what they are, I don't think I can tell you." replied the Protoceratops, looking back at the feeding Raptors. "The Newcomers killed three of their pack, and are now hunting for food in the Rainy Basin. No wonder the Raptors are starving."

"What's this?"

The question was practically yelled through the town, as the news that Tristan and Berhuam provided spread quickly. Even more surprising was the fact that two Raptors had been brought out of the Rainy Basin. Quick Killer and Two-Moons had accompanied the convoy over the bridge to give more information to the matriarch of Treetown, a girl named Patilla, daughter of Norah, the previous matriarch of Treetown. Patilla had very little experience in these kinds of matters, but she knew she had to do her best. As Two-Moons and Quick Killer gave the location of their nesting grounds, then their hunting area, then, finally, the Newcomers' camp, Patilla found that the Newcomers were camped out near the largest group of ruins, known simply as the Temple Ruins. It was about two miles off the usual route the convoys took between Treetown and Waterfall City. Easily accessible. If only it would all be that easy.

Matt crept forward, clutching his Thompson. They'd been running low on food for some time, and Glenn had authorized a hunting trip. They'd drawn straws, and Ralphy and been allowed to stay back at the campsite. Now, the hunter was about to become the hunted. An Allosaur lay in the middle of the clearing in front of him. It had been about a month since they'd been stranded on this green hell, and they were finally starting to succeed. In the brush around the Allosaur, the other members of the hunting party got into position. All they had to do was wait for the signal, and they would all pounce. Matt licked his lips in anticipation of fresh meat. The stuff that they'd been eating lately had started to rot. When Eric had thrown up just by smelling the meat, they knew they had to throw it out. Glenn had also been sending some boys out to fetch some plants as well. They'd tested whether or not they were poisonous by setting traps for little mammals. They were actually beaver sized squirrels, but they worked. The most common plant the boys ate was a sort of root that tasted a little like apples and lemons mixed together. It was kind of sour and bitter when eaten raw, but actually tasted very good when boiled. Matt began to draw a bead on the Allosaur with his Thompson. What was taking so long? And then the signal, which came in the form of some automatic gunfire from the bushes right in front of the Allosaur. Immediately, Glenn's voice pierced the jungle.

"FLANKERS OUT! GO! GO! GO!"

The 'flankers' consisted of Eric, who had mercifully recovered from his encounter with the rotting meat, Sean, Scott, and Robert all armed with shotguns coming out and blasting vital parts of the Allosaur's legs. Two to a leg, they shot tendons and bones, until finally the predator couldn't rise from the ground.

"ALL RIGHT! GO!" came Glenn's voice again, and everyone else burst from the bushes, all firing at the Allosaur's head and belly.

Matt ran right up to the carnivore's face and put a few rounds into its eye. Big mistake. The Allosaur jerked its head up, knocking Matt back down, then tried to swing its head over to take a bite out of Matt. However, Glenn, thankfully, put a few rounds from the Uzi into the back of its throat. The dinosaur roared in pain as more shot started to penetrate the thick skin.

"CEASE FIRE! CEASE FIRE!" shouted Glenn, waving to get the boys' attention.

Immediately, the gunfire stopped, and they all watched as the Allosaur struggled to take a few wheezy breaths, still alive, but dying. Glenn turned to Carl, who had his Ak-47 trained on the dinosaur's head.

"Carl, put it out of its misery." Glenn ordered his son.

Carl had been experimenting with different 'chemicals' and how unstable they were, so it wasn't a surprise if an explosion ripped through the jungle once in a while. Slinging his AK over his shoulder, Carl pulled out a bottle of whiskey that had been on the boat. Pulling the stopper out, he shoved a rag into the neck, shaking it a bit as he did so. The smell of the liquor quickly joined those of the clearing as the rag soaked up the liquid. Taking a match out, Carl struck it once, twice, then smiled as it lit. Putting the match to the rag, Carl quickly dropped it, then stomped it out as the cloth caught fire. Glenn nodded, and Alec put another bullet into the dinosaur's belly from his rifle, which made the carnivore open its mouth to moan. Carl rushed forward, tossed the bottle in, then pulled out his handgun, a Colt revolver, and shot the bottle from further back. There was a muffled BOOM as the bottle exploded, and fire came out of the Allosaur mouth, nostrils and eyes. It let out one final breath, then collapsed to the ground. Matt walked up slowly, poked it with his gun, then put a few rounds into its head via the eye socket. When the dinosaur did not move, he gave the thumbs up. Everyone cheered as Glenn, Carl and Blake stepped forward and pried open the mouth. Scorch marks were everywhere along the inside of the mouth of the predator, and the tongue was no more. Eric, Robert, and Scott stepped forward and debated for a moment before all grasping a single tooth and pulling. The knife-like incisor came out with a sharp _crack!_ as it snapped. Collecting teeth was how the boys counted how many kills they had made. Moving around to the ribs, everyone started pulling the meat off, ignoring the blood that splattered their hands and clothes. There was going to be a feast that night.

Back at the campsite, Ralphy was huddling in the temple, aiming his rifle out the door. Their campsite had been moved inside the temple complex, which was surrounded by a ten foot wall. With a definite barrier, everyone would be safer. Or so they thought. Ralphy had decided to explore, but hadn't found much inside the temple. A crude sort of gate had been constructed in the archway, but Ralphy doubted it could hold back much. It was simply some bones, a few pieces of wood, and some metal from the boat all tied together with vines. Ralphy was about to start thinking about what could so easily knock it down, when he heard it; a soft _thump_. Then again, _thump_. Ralphy frowned. He'd been around dinosaurs long enough to know that the sounds were too spaced to be anything like an Allosaur. Slowly, with his rifle up, he walked out into the complex and looked around. Then, hearing a noise above him, he looked up. The last thing he saw was a mouth full of teeth and a gaping throat.

Matt and the others were taking a small break on their way back. The meat was heavy, and he wondered if they should make another trip to try and get anymore of it. Alec, Scott, and Carl were making jokes about things back home. Matt smiled. All those things that seemed important back then, money, girls, video games, all seemed trivial now. That's when the scream cut through the jungle. There was silence as each boys' eyes widened when they all recognized the scream. Only one person said anything, though.

"Ralphy!" shouted Robert, dropping the meat and rushing forward.

After a quick glance, all the others did the same, rushing to find out what had happened to their friend. They arrived just in time to find Robert bursting through the gate, then being dragged down with another scream.

All the boys raised their guns as Glenn formed a quick strategy; "Half of you on the left, half on the right. I'll take center."

He said this with deadly calm, but Matt knew they were all shaken. Quickly, all the boys took up their spot and finally burst in. The first thing they did was drop their jaws. The second thing was fire. Three Raptors had gotten over the wall and had been gorging themselves on Ralphy and Robert. In six shots, plus a few bursts from the automatics, all three lay dead.

"Robert!" screamed Eric, rushing towards the body of his brother.

Everyone else simply stood and stared. That night, two more piles of ashes joined Ryan's on the jungle wind.

The next day, the deaths of Ralphy and Robert hung heavily on the air. Which of them was next? Who would make the next blunder? They all stayed in the campsite, barricading the gate with some rubble and watching the wall, guns at the ready, in case something decided to leap over. They had food, all right. The three Raptors fed them well for the few days that they stayed fortified in the compound. Not a smile was made, not a joke cracked. Everything was serious. Three dead, about a quarter of the ammunition they'd had was gone, and they were constantly running low on food. How long until they started on each other, then died altogether? No one could tell; but that didn't mean it wasn't on every mind in that camp. And one of them wasn't human.

Dragon Flyer had been watching the humans for some time, snapping up insects that flew around the camp, and getting exercise during the night when everyone but the watch was asleep. But his favorite activity was to simply sit and watch the humans from his hiding place on top of the temple. He was a Dimorphodon, and he was under orders to watch the humans for about seven days, to see what they were up to. He noticed that they ate meat, had ragged, bloody clothes, cared very little for hygiene, and always carried those weapons with them. He'd seen them in action during the Raptor ambush, and had almost flown off when he'd heard the sounds. These humans were very peculiar, and he wanted to know more about them. However, he was able to confirm that they weren't any match against a Saurian at close quarters, so they couldn't be all that strong, so what was the point? Finally, on his seventh night, when the boys were asleep and two of them were on watch, back to back, Dragon Flyer took off into the night, heading back to Treetown. Now that they had a location, they could attempt a rescue. Not only to save the humans, but also the environment that they were starting to swing out of balance.

Patilla finally put down the report that the Dimorphodon master had put together. The news was grim. Two boys had died the other day, and now the Newcomers had settled into a gloomy mood. They had barricaded themselves inside the temple, probably out of fear of what would happen as soon as they set foot outside the fence. If they would only stay there a few more days, then the convoy that was being prepared for their rescue could get to them without endangering anyone.

Quick Killer watched as a group of armored Triceratops from Volcaneum strode through town, heading towards the bridge where two Brachiosaurs were waiting, fully grown, fully armored and fully supplied. There was food, clothing, water, and medical goods occupying one Brachiosaur, and on the other were a few healers, and a human translator. The rest of the seats in the basket were empty, seeing as how they would be carting somewhere around half a dozen boys and one adult out of the Rainy Basin. Also, sent by Captain Oonu from Canyon City were four Skybax and their riders. This rescue mission meant a lot, as all the major cities of Dinotopia had put a little bit of effort into helping out. Just as the rescue convoy was about to head towards the bridge, there came a shout from the edge of town; Mayor Waldo and his family, as well as the famous Scott family, had been spotted heading towards the town! Excitement rose as rumors, guesses and questions flew. Finally, the Mayor and Co. came into sight and progressed through the trees and barns that made up the town. Mayor Waldo stood up upon seeing the rescue convoy, a grim and concerned look on his face. Marion and Rosemary both had to try their hardest to prevent him from slipping out of the basket. Patilla led them towards the highest tree near the bridge, the lookout station. Once the Mayor, his family, and the Scotts had managed to get up, they saw just how big the crowd was.

"Christ, exactly how many people are we rescuing?" exclaimed Frank.

"I dunno, but however many, there can't possible be THIS many. Hey! 26!"

Karl had been having some trouble with the mischievous little Chasmosaur over the past two years as she began to become more curious of her surroundings.

"Relax, boys," said Rosemary, looking back as 26 tripped Karl by running around his legs. "There are only about half a dozen Newcomers to rescue, but it will be a stupendous occasion! Two groups of Newcomers in such short time. First you, then them. You unlocked the way to the World Beneath, so who knows what these Newcomers will accomplish?"

Patella started waving a flag, a signal for the crowd to quiet down. Mayor Waldo stepped up to the railing and said, in his loudest voice that wasn't quite a yell, "Friends! Families! Citizens of Dinotopia! We are gathered here to make the attempted rescue of a group of Newcomers. They are not Dolphinbacks, we know that for sure, because no dolphin would bring a survivor halfway down the Polongo River, then leave him there! So, we do hope that you all can make our guests, and soon to be neighbors, feel as welcome as possible!"

A cheer rose up, and then Waldo nodded to Patella, who yelled "Lower the bridge!" As the rescue convoy stepped onto the structure, the cheers died down almost instantly as loud noises rose from the Rainy Basin; faint screams, roars, and strange sound, almost like fireworks. The rescue convoy hesitated, and then surged forward at full speed.


End file.
